Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Eleven.

Lesson Eleven: Going All In

This City Girl's inner monologue often sounds like Zach Braff's character from Scrubs and usually leads into a far-fetched daydream that ends with a choir singing out the days thoughts. (Oh, how I wish I was kidding.) However, earlier this week there was a plain and simple conversation in this Girl's head that looked a lot like this:

Lesson Nine*...know your season. Hmph. I'm clearly still in the same process I was when I posted that lesson back in January. JANUARY!!!...I guess I can see it's definitely been a process. I feel like a totally different person from the girl who wrote that post months ago and I know I'm definitely NOT still at the starting line, but seriously....when is this time going to be over?? This feels like waterboarding. (insert whiny noises and groaning) There's gotta be a way to make this go faster...Can I truly say that I've been in this, like, really in this? Hmm....why do I get the feeling there's more I could be doing here? (insert additional groans)

So, Lesson Eleven readers, I say this with as much bravery as I can muster: This City Girl has decided to push all her chips to the middle. Into the innermost depths of a difficult time. Into the very hardest of all situations, bearing down and leaning in. All in hopes that it will make this time, this season of learning, somehow go faster. This City Girl will let the lungs of her heart take in as much of the ethereal water as they can hold in hopes that she will come out on the other side of this season a better Girl. A stronger Girl. A Girl with answers. A Girl with greater hope.

Today I am going all in.

* The answer is yes. My thought process does include url links. (wink)

Auto-Pilot

It's been 2 weeks and 4 days since my temporary move to The Country. Which means that there are only 15 more days to go. (Yes. There is a countdown.) Since moving myself into exile, as a friend called it the other day, I have made lists, I've involved myself in just about every activity, project and/or house guest I could get my hands on. I've stayed busy. I've made dinners. I've hiked....once, but I hiked! I've thrown myself into the very depths of my business and worked from sun up to sun down. I've made sure that not a moment of my day wasn't filled with some sort of....something.

And last night the exhaustion of it all, the forcing of my heart to be on auto-pilot, the ignored feelings came crashing down on this sad City Girl like a building demolition.

Life is still moving forward. My heart still pumps blood all day long, I still breath in and out. I have more friends rushing to my aid than a Facebook junkie. My business is actually functioning better than ever. But...

The unfortunate truth is this sad City Girl can't stay on auto-pilot forever. So, today I'm just sitting here. Waiting. Wishing I knew when the sad will be over.

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Ten.

Lesson Ten: Seize the Day OR 30 Days = 30 Chances
I recently said yes to a job that I normally would have said no to. Maybe it was because this City Girl has been missing life on The Ranch. Or maybe it was because recent changes have proved to weigh a little heavier on this heart than was anticipated. In any event, for the next 30 days I will be living just far enough away from The Beach that my city life will be taking a backseat to dusty roads, pie making and hauling hay.

Day One I started to think that maybe I had made a huge mistake. Life at The Beach wasn't exactly booming, but it wasn't all that bad was it? And while I did want a break from the monotony of overcast days and the white noise of rolling waves, did I really want to live 30 miles out of town with three horses and two dogs that feel like the equivalent of five foster children? I started to wonder what I had done. Just what had I signed on for?

Day Two looked a little better since a dinner with other humans was scheduled and I managed to finagle a wifi setup, but the nagging feeling of being in way over my head was still plaguing me. Today is Day Three and the feeling was still here. I had been trying to get a routine down and plugging away at some greatly neglected work to fill the time. But busyness does not cure heartache or change or even the occasional loneliness. So I stopped being busy and just sat and listened and thought to myself.

For the next 30 days I will have 30 chances to do...anything! I have 30 chances to get better at yoga, hike and see the sights, make new friends, dream up new business ideas, learn something new, grow spiritually, or just be present. I have 30 days that could change my life or I have 30 days that I can let make my life a misery.

So, once again, this City Girl is taking a leap. This time into undiscovered waters of unknown depth.

Lessons in Learning How to Rest, Part Nine.

Lesson Nine: Know your seasons.

I moved to The Beach a couple weeks ago. And I know I always say that I live at The Beach. But this time I moved, quite literally, to the ocean's doorstep. As in, I walk outside, cross the street, and I'm there. Toes in the sand. Salt air in my face. Sunshine and fog all around.

A few months before this fabulous decision to move, I had a sad break-up. A break-up that I saw coming down the pike that wasn't so sad because of the person about to leave, but because I knew the next season of self-growth that I had been skillfully avoiding was knocking at my door. And I didn't like the haunting feeling that I was about to hurt in yet another way. Felt like Scrooge anticipating the arrival of the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. But I knew that it was time to leave my season of heartbreak and bravely submit myself to a season of healing.

It took the entire four months, one-third of 2011, for my little heart to heal. A time for all those shattered pieces to be gently gathered up, connected together, and for my heart to feel like it could truly beat on its own. And while four months doesn't sound like a long time, it was tough for this City Girl to be all alone. In fact, it was the first time I was decidedly alone in about 2 years. I had turned down dates, set-ups, any prospective males of any kind in hopes that my time alone would reveal some great truth about life or love. Instead, those four months were used to get me back on my feet and able to stand up tall against the corrupt winds of charm, possessed by the everyday douche bag, that seem to whisk toward me on a weekly basis. Those four months were an emotional bootcamp, of sorts, that prepared me to raise my bar when it comes to all things love related.

And now I live at The Beach. Which to anyone else may not mean a whole lot. But to this City Girl it means a new season. Being a solid 15 minutes outside of The City, this part of The Beach is sleepy, quiet and completely unassuming. This place is peaceful. And I can now say, without doubt in my mind, this new season will be one of restoration.

Stay tuned...

Making a List and Chucking It Twice.

I make lists all day long. On my phone, on sticky notes, on my computer, in my iCal app, in my head...it's exhausting. And at the end of the day, I like to double check all my lists to make sure nothing got overlooked or added twice. Essentially, I pride myself on my list making abilities and my knack for keeping all things accounted for.

The other day I was chatting up my mom about the art of moving on and my attempt at leaving certain feelings behind. In the past when I had let love go, each day would get easier and easier. I would think about that person a little bit less as the weeks flew by. This time, however, I seem to have been compiling a list, unbeknownst to myself, of all the things I loved about this last possibility and each day seemed to be plaguing me with memories. Instead of each day of distance bringing freedom to my heart, I had found something new that made my heart sad and wishing I could turn back time. I was in the throws of serious girl talk, with tears of frustration streaming down my face, when my mom pointed out that since having had this time apart I now knew why I loved, why my heart had been so tied to someone.

I'm sure life for this City Girl will get sunnier again in the future. I will wake up one morning and live out an entire day without thinking about him. It has to be possible that at some point I'll be able to go a whole week without a giant knot building in my throat and tears waiting to spill out of my eyes. Maybe someday my heart will throw out that list...

Truth and the X factor.

Being a truth teller is a tricky thing. You want to find the right words, the perfect words. You want your voice to be even and steady. You want your point to be made without making the recipient of your words confused or trying to grasp blindly at your concept. 

I am a truth teller. I don't know how good my skill level is, but yesterday there was no mistaking me for anything but a teller of what is true and honest.

Yesterday, I told the truth to a friend. A good friend. A love. And while I was hoping for a different answer from this person, I was so happy to have spoken words that my heart felt. I was relieved to breath out words that made me feel as if I had been hiding a big secret from one of my best friends.

The thing about being a truth teller is that you don't know what will happen when you say the very things you mean. And then once you've said those things you still don't know what will happen. You may get a reaction. You may even lose things or titles. You may get words volleyed back to you. But when both sides have said all the words they have in their arsenal, sometimes there is still an X factor that hovers over you. There is still the unknown of what will come next...

Hott Mess. Two T's.

My attention is getting torn in about 50 different directions this week. It’s hard to tell what is supposed to take priority during the day. This week is oddly reminiscent of all the times I’ve packed up for another long stint on the road. My brain just doesn’t know where to start. It has so many thoughts swirling around inside it, it feels like a witches cauldron about to run over.

My heart keeps pining over The Possibility, which forces one half of my brain to regurgitate these same thoughts: What are we? When do we have “that” conversation that makes or breaks all relationships? When am I going to see him again, anyway? What if he still wants to see other people? I’ll have to tell him that won’t work for me. I’ll be alone. Again. I hate that girl that keeps commenting on his facebook page. I hate facebook. I can’t believe I’m letting daily thoughts of some guy dominate half my brain Ooh! A text! Aww, he misses me...I think.

Meanwhile, the other half of my brain is on another page entirely: Is everything really packed up? What am I forgetting? I know I’m forgetting something. I always do. I should paint those shelves before I leave. Did I call my insurance guy? That’s all taken care of, right? Oh god, I hope I don’t crash with that trailer behind my car. Sweet lord, I’m moving on Monday! I hope I don’t get back to The Beach and become homeless within a matter of months. I don’t think I could pull off homeless. My jaw hurts. Why does my jaw keep hurting? Have I been clenching my jaw ALL day?? Oh great. I probably have that worry line forming in between my eyes, too. Did I put all of my marketing plans in iCal, yet? Note to self….oh shoot…I forgot what that note was about.

Between the boy and the move my brain and heart may end up simultaneously exploding. I can’t sleep at night. When I do finally drift off to dreamland, I wake up every hour on the hour, as if my body is trying to remind me of all the daily stress. I can’t eat either. My stomach is constantly in connection with my heart, which constantly reminds it how nervous it should be about my impending date with love or heartache. And I'm not sure what my eyes are connected to, but they keep filling up with tears...